A Merry Little Christmas
by PiaculumDeFatum
Summary: Just when Detective Flack thought his Christmas couldn’t get worse, Mac and the team finds a way to make everything alright. Flackcentric.


_**A/N:** This fic was written...awhile ago, for CSI: Santa, for Bookwrangler. So it's late getting up. This is just a little Christmas songfic to the tune of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas". No specific pairing, but some hinting at Mac/Peyton angst and slight Danny/Lindsey. Spoilers for Episodes 1x23 ("What You See is What You See"), 2X24 ("Charge of this Post"), 3x08 ("Consequences"), and 3x10 ("Sweet 16"). Also, written before episode "Silent Night", so Mac and Peyton are not back together yet. Other than that, slight warning for angst and language. I do not own CSI: NY or any of its consequential characters, plots or locations. I do not own the song "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" or "Blue Christmas". Other than that, I hope you enjoy! Happy New Year, all!_

A Merry Little Christmas

"**Have yourself a merry little Christmas  
Let your heart be light"**

Detective Don Flack set down his pen and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his blue eyes for a second as his head was gripped by the throes of a raging headache. He sighed deeply and blinked once, twice, before turning to survey the rest of the office. It was a dismal sight. All the detectives and officers were gone at the Annual NYPD Ball, and the few officers hanging around on duty were ignoring him, wrapped in their own lives.

Flack could've gone. He had received his invitation to the Ball as always, but ever since…well, ever since the whole thing with Mac and Truby, everything seemed different. He felt shunned now, ostracized from the rest of the detectives and officers. It was nothing verbal, nothing to his face. But there were mutters behind his back, glares thrown at him, mutinous whispers circulating the precinct.

It hadn't been his fault, and he supposed that he realized that, somewhere in the back of his mind. He had been stuck between a rock and a hard place, but at the same time, he understood that as soon as he had handed over his memo book to Mac, he had violated some archaic, unwritten law that bound all officers together, closer than brothers. He had broken that, had betrayed the trust of every officer he had ever worked with, and now found himself on the outside looking in, a stranger in the only place that had truly felt like his home.

Sighing again, he leaned back in his chair, eyes focused on the ceiling. Someone had turned on the radio, and the crackly music swirled through his mind like a hazy cloud.

"I'll have a blue Christmas  
Without you  
I'll be so blue thinking  
About you  
You'll be doing all right  
With your Christmas of white  
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas"

Flack sat up and glared at the radio. Perfect, just perfect. A melancholy song for his melancholy mood.

Not even bothering to stand up and turn it off, Flack sighed again and leaned back in his chair for a second time. Sure, he had paperwork he should be doing, but instead he concentrated on blocking out the strains of the song.

He was concentrating so hard that he didn't even hear when one of the officers came up behind him, so he jumped when he was tapped on the shoulder.

"Detective Flack? I'm headed out."

When Flack's heart stopped skipping, he nodded slowly and managed, "Oh. Right. See ya tomorrow."

"Not tomorrow," said the officer, grinning. "Tomorrow's Christmas."

Christmas. Ah, yes. How could Flack have forgotten? Even as he waved good-bye to the officer, his heart sank into a dark abyss. He had forgotten, and since he was working tomorrow, it looked like Christmas wasn't going to be very good this year.

"**From now on our troubles  
Will be out of sight"**

Mac's cool eyes scanned the ballroom as he sipped from the glass of champagne that Stella had given him. A hand touched his elbow and he turned slightly, favoring the person beside him with a slight smile.

It was Stella. She, too, sipped some champagne, and Mac couldn't help but let his eyes trail briefly down her body, watching the flow of her red dress as it hugged her body.

His head snapped up when he realized that Stella had said something to him. "What?" he asked.

Stella rolled her eyes and smiled slightly. "I asked you a question, but you were apparently too busy admiring."

Smiling as well, Mac said, "You do look very beautiful tonight, but I already told you that earlier this evening when I picked you up from your apartment. What did you ask me?"

Raising one eyebrow, Stella repeated, "I asked if there was a reason why you invited me last minute to this thing. I thought you had a date."

Mac's eyes returned to scanning the room, hardening as he looked. "I did have a date," he admitted softly, not meeting Stella's eyes. "Things didn't quite work out the way I had planned."

"Ah," said Stella, and Mac looked back at her, seeing the sympathy in her eyes and meeting it with steely resolve. "I'm sorry."

Mac shrugged. "Not a big deal," he said tightly. Changing the subject, he asked, "Are we still on for tonight? The annual CSI after-party?"

"Of course," grinned Stella, her eyes shining in anticipation. "We wouldn't want to shirk on tradition, now would we?" Pausing, she looked out at the room also. "Is everyone here? I saw Danny and Lindsay—they came together, did I tell you that? —and I saw Hawkes. The only person I didn't see was Flack."

Frowning, Mac's eyes searched the room for Flack's familiar figure, coming up empty. "I don't see Flack either. That's odd; he always loves to come to these kind of things—they're the highlight of his year." He looked back at Stella. "Let's go ask Danny if he's seen Flack."

Stella and Mac edged across the ballroom to where Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes were sitting at a table. Stella eagerly joined them and Mac felt his heart swell slightly as he watched his team. Yet something was missing, and Mac knew what it was. Flack was missing, and even though he wasn't technically part of Mac's team, since he was a detective and not a CSI, but at the same time, he was as much a part of Mac's team as any of the CSIs. He was the balancing point of the team, the coolness to Danny's hotheadedness, the wisdom to Lindsay's naivety, the street smarts to Hawkes' book smarts, the witty remarks to Stella's comments, and even the passion to Mac's stoicalness.

And there was a hollow spot when Flack wasn't there, when his laugh wasn't heard and when his blue eyes didn't dance with laughter, or when his tough words didn't silence suspects and his eyes didn't burn with icy fury. Flack was integral, and Mac decided in that moment that he would go talk to Flack.

"Stella," he said, turning to face her. "Take everyone over to your apartment and get everything ready. I'm going to go get Flack."

Stella raised an eyebrow at Mac. "Do you even know where he is?"

Mac didn't smile, but he said calmly, "Let's just say I've got a feeling.

"**Have yourself a merry little Christmas  
Make the Yuletide gay"**

Flack rolled his eyes over to the clock and groaned loudly. He had technically gotten off of work close to two hours ago. He should be at home. Actually, he should be at a bar, somewhere, getting beautifully drunk and maybe even hooking up with a beautiful woman for the night.

Then his heart sank. It was Christmas Eve. He should be somewhere, at a party or with his family, or…something.

He wasn't going home for Christmas. By home, of course, he meant to his family, to his mom and dad's house in Yonkers. He had been invited for Christmas dinner tomorrow but he had volunteered to work tomorrow, so he had relayed his regrets to his parents.

Now he wondered if that had been the best idea. He was lonely, and not the kind of loneliness that would be easily solved by a warm body in his bed. He was thirsty for companionship, companionship that he had been drained of these past few weeks. Since the thing with Mac, he hadn't been invited out for a beer with the guys or anything like that.

Sighing again, Flack sat up, glancing around again at the office. Part of him longed to go home, to shut himself up away from the world, just close his eyes and wish it all away. The larger part kept him here, kept him from sinking into the dull emptiness that threatened to consume him at the moment. He groaned and glared at the calendar hanging on the wall. "I hate Christmas."

"You never used to," mentioned a voice behind him. Mac strolled into the office, leaning casually against the desk next to Flack's. "What makes this Christmas different?"

Flack's eyes flickered up to Mac's before shifting again. "I dunno," he said quietly, contemplatively. "This whole year has been…difficult."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Are you talking about when we almost got blown up or the whole thing with Truby?"

A small smile played on Flack's face, though it quickly faded. "I suppose a little bit of both."

"Well," said Mac, sitting down and stretching his legs out. "I've got time. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"**From now on our troubles  
Will be miles away"**

Now it was Flack's turn to raise an eyebrow at Mac. "You goin' all Doctor Phil on me, Mac?"

"Maybe," said Mac, smiling slightly. He looked relaxed, leaning back in the chair and regarding Flack carefully. "At the very least, we're both detectives, Don. We take care of our own."

Flack's face hardened. "Or we're supposed to take care of our own," he muttered quietly, his blue eyes dark. Looking at Mac, he asked, "When you were in the Marines, did ya have the brotherhood that cops have?"

Mac nodded emphatically. "As much as if not more. There's always a bond between any people who serve together, who put their lives on the line together." Pausing, he looked quizzically at Flack. "But this isn't about my experience in Beirut, is it?"

Not answering the question, Flack responded with one of his own. "Did you ever betray one of your men's trust? Did you ever break those bonds that you talked about?"

"What is this really about, Don?" asked Mac, eyes narrowed, not in suspicion but in concern.

Flack sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "Whaddya think this is about, Mac? They all think that I betrayed him, that I betrayed them all."

Mac didn't need to ask whom Flack was talking about; he knew. "Don," he said gently, but his eyes were filled with steel. "I'm sorry that I out you in the middle of this, and I'm sorry that you're being blamed for this, but I am not sorry for what I did. I said it before and I will say it again: Truby was a bad cop, and he deserved to go down."

"You think I don't know that?" snapped Flack, anger radiating from him. "He murdered and stole and broke everything sacred to Police Officers, but he was still one of my men, one of my family, and I hate the fact that everyone hates me now because of this."

Finally able to see Flack's anguish, Mac reached out and gently touched his arm. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done."

Shaking his head, Flack smiled wistfully. "I wish that were true. I coulda refused. I coulda not given you my memo book."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and I could've gotten a subpoena. Then there would be an inquiry into why you didn't give me your book. You could've been charged with obstruction of justice or aiding and abetting a criminal." Mac paused. "Don, you did nothing wrong."

Flack just smiled weakly. "I just wish everyone else could see that." He looked at Mac closely. "Ya know, Mac, when you came for my book, I wasn't sure if I hated you or respected you."

Simply smiling, Mac said calmly, "Sometimes it's a fine line."

Nodding slowly, Flack said suddenly, "Did I ever thank you?"

Mac's brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For saving my life. Did I ever thank you?"

Mac just looked at him, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "You don't need to thank me. You would've done the same for me. Because we're friends, and that's what friends do." He paused. "Speaking of friends, is there a reason why you didn't grace your friends with your presence tonight at the Ball?" Pausing again, he said in softer tones, "We're still your friends, regardless of what's happening."

Flack smiled, weakly at first, then broader, his face breaking into the first real smile he had smiled in days. "I know," he said. "I know, and believe me, I am more thankful for it than you will ever know."

"Then are you coming?" asked Mac, abruptly standing. "Stella's annual after party is still on. Even if you didn't go to the ball, you should be there. You're part of this team."

Looking up at him, Flack's eyes danced with a sudden light, the light that had been missing before. "Alright. Let's go."

"**Here we are as in olden days  
Happy golden days  
Of yore"**

Back at Stella's apartment, Stella was having everyone help her set up. "Danny, don't drop that punch bowl!" she called as her cell phone went out. Pulling it out and flipping it open, she said loudly over the noises in the background, "Bonasera."

"Stella, it's Mac." Mac's voice sounded tinny and far away.

"Everyone, quiet for a minute!" yelled Stella. "It's Mac." She put the phone back up to her ear. "Yeah, Mac, what's up? Did you find Flack?"

Stella could hear Mac cover the phone for a moment, and heard his hushed aside, "Don, I'm going to step outside for a moment." After a minute, Mac said, "Yeah, I found him. He was at work. Listen, Stella, he's…kind of depressed, so we need to work hard to keep him in a good mood."

"All right, Mac, we'll see what we can do," said Stella, flipping her phone shut. She turned back to the kitchen just as Lindsay's head poked out from the kitchen,

"Hey, Stella, what did Mac want?"

Turning to her, Stella said, "He was calling about Flack. Apparently, Flack's not in the most cheery of Christmas moods, and Mac wants us to try our best to cheer him up." Stella looked at Danny. "Danny, I think you should talk to him. Try and instill some merriment in him."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Stella, are you sure I'm the best person to do this? We all know I'm a bit…uh, pessimistic, I guess you could call it. Really, maybe Hawkes better do it, or Lindsay."

Stella gave him a look. "Danny, you're Flack's best friend. You have to do this."

Nodding slowly, Danny took a deep breath and let it all out in a puff. "Alright, I guess I can do that." He looked at his watch. "We better finish setting up. Mac and Flack will be here in a few minutes.

Stella looked at everyone who had gathered around. "Well, everyone, you heard him! Let's go!"

Ten minutes later, Mac and Flack stood outside of Stella's apartment door. Mac looked over at Flack concernedly. "Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet."

Flack looked over at him and half-smiled. "I dunno, it's just that I've been so used to everyone, well, pretty much hating me that it feels weird to consider that people actually don't. Ya know? Or did that not make any sense at all?"

Mac chuckled. "No, it made sense…sort of." Pausing, he looked at Flack carefully. "Look, I told Stella you were a bit down in the doldrums, so don't be surprised if someone comes to have a talk with you."

"Whaddya mean?" asked Don, confused.

Mac gave him a look. "It's _Stella_," he said patiently. "Her favorite phrase in the world is, 'Do you want to talk about it?' Knowing her, though, she'll probably have Danny come talk to you."

Nodding slowly, suddenly nervous, Flack cleared his throat loudly and said, "How 'bout we just go in?"

Mac nodded as well before knocking on the door. Stella answered it promptly. "Hi you guys!" she said excitedly. As soon as she saw Flack, she pulled him into a hug. "Donnie, give me a Christmas hug, will you?" She winked at Mac and dangled a sprig of mistletoe over Flack's head. "Why, look at that!" she said, mock-surprised. Leaning in, she pecked him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Flack."

Lindsay was next, giving Flack a gentle hug. "Merry Christmas," she giggled, dumping a handful of red and green confetti over him.

Flack stared at her and Stella. "You guys have gone nuts," he said finally. "Oh, and Stella? Best give that mistletoe to Danny over there. Maybe then he'll finally get a little something-something, if ya catch my drift."

While everyone laughed, Danny threw a pillow at Flack. "I'll get you for this, Donald," he growled.

Flack grinned easily. "Bring it, Messer. Just be prepared to take it right back with ya."

He sauntered off to the kitchen to get himself a beer. Stella turned to Mac, a frown creasing her forehead. "I think you're the one who's gone nuts, Mac. He seems perfectly normal."

Mac's eyes were trained on the door to the kitchen, concern etched on his face. "It's an act," he said calmly. "He was nervous before we came in, which doesn't even make any sense.

Stella frowned as well. "Alright, then I'll still have Danny talk to him." She paused and raised an eyebrow at Mac when he chuckled. "What is so funny?"

"You're just predictable, that's all," said Mac, smiling. "In a good way."

"**Faithful friends who are dear to us  
Gather near to us  
Once more"**

In the kitchen, Flack was in fact getting himself a beer; he was also downing it as if he were a man dying of thirst. Danny leaned against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't think that beer's going anywhere, soon, Flack."

Flack looked over at him and set the bottle down guiltily. "Oh, right," he said, flushing slightly. "I was just…ah, thirsty."

"Sure you were," said Danny, smirking. He strolled into the kitchen and sat at the table, stretching his legs out. "Get me one, too, would ya?"

Flack pulled another beer out of the fridge and tossed it to Danny. He sat down himself. "So, how are things with you and 'Montana' goin'? Rumor has it that you two went to the ball tonight together."

A ghost of a smile touched Danny's face as he looked down at his beer bottle. "Yeah we did. But I don't wanna push her, ya know? I know she needs time, and so time is what I will give her."

As Danny took a sip of beer, Flack grinned. "Since when did Danny Messer become a patient man?"

Danny raised an eyebrow at him. "Since when did Don Flack stop telling his friend when major shit's going on in his life?"

Flack frowned deeply. "Stella put you up to this," he said, not accusingly, but almost in a sigh of realization.

"Maybe, but it's not like I haven't wondered the same thing," countered Danny. "You've been distant, lately, and not even in the usual Don-Flack-rough-day-at-work kinda distant you sometimes get." He paused before saying quietly, "I just want to help, Don."

Flack sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "I know, I know," he said, avoiding Danny's eyes. "I've had this same conversation with Mac already today. I wasn't trying to avoid you, it's just…ever since the Truby thing, I feel like everyone's been angry at me, and…I dunno, I guess I thought if I just avoided you guys, then you wouldn't be able to be pissed at me." He paused and chuckled dryly. "Kinda backfired, huh?"

Danny looked pissed. "So that's what you think of your friends? That'd we'd all just be ticked at you over something so stupid?"

Flack shook his head, frowning. "It ain't like that. It's complicated." He paused. "Do you know how hard it's been for me these past few weeks?"

Danny gave him a look. "You still shoulda come to me! I coulda helped you! We coulda talked it out over beers or beat it out at the basketball courts."

"I know," said Flack softly, miserably. "There's so much I coulda done, so much I shoulda confided in you, but, it was just…so hard."

Half-smiling at him, Danny said quietly, "Well, it's over now. You know we don't hate you. I don't think I ever could." He paused, considering. "Well, unless you stole my girl. Then it'd be ass-kicking time."

Flack grinned. "Better not let Montana hear you talking that way about her. She wouldn't be too happy."

Nodding, Danny grinned as well. "I feel like we should hug or something, but that's just be…weird."

"Agreed," said Flack. He looked down at his beer bottle. "Whaddya say we clink?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "So adult, yet so…child-like." He held his bottle up. "Let's clink then."

Flack clinked his bottle against Danny's and they both took a sip. Suddenly, Hawkes poked his head in the room. "Hey, you guys. Stella sent me to tell you that the annual Christmas gift swap is about to take place, so you might want to head to the living room."

Danny turned to Flack and grinned. "Did you ever noticed how if we do anything for more than one year, Stella calls it annual?"

Flack stood and gave Danny a hand up. "Who knows? With Stella, it's better not to ask."

Smirking, Danny said, "Yeah, but you know ya liked it when she kissed ya!"

Grabbing Danny, Flack put him in a chokehold and gave him a noogie. "Ya know, Messer, if it weren't for the fact that I'm slightly fond of you, I might just have to get rid of you one day."

"Just you try, Flack," grinned Danny, wriggling out of Flack's grip. "Just you try."

"**Through the years we all will  
Be together  
If the fates allow  
Hang a shining star  
Upon the highest bough"**

Flack and Danny joined everyone in the living room. Stella had donned her red Santa hat and was already assembling the gifts under the tree. She gestured for them to sit, then began excitedly. "Alright, everyone, so now it's time for the Annual CSI Christmas Gift Exchange!"

Danny elbowed Flack. "See, whaddid I say about the annual thing?"

Raising one eyebrow, Flack whispered in undertones to Danny and Mac, who was sitting nearby, "Who slipped something in her hot cocoa?"

While Mac stifled a laugh, Stella glared at Flack before continuing. "As you all know, we drew names at the beginning of December. When your person's name is called, reveal yourself after they open the gift, ok?"

She selected a small box from beneath the tree. "We'll start with…" She looked at the tag. "Oh! Me!" Grinning, she ripped off the wrapping paper, giddy as a small child, and opened the lid of the box, gasping when she saw what was inside. "Oh, they're earrings. Beautiful little diamond earrings!"

"Merry Christmas, Stella," grinned Hawkes.

Stella laughed. "You had me? That's strange—I had you, too!" She handed him a box. "Merry Christmas, Sheldon."

He tore off the paper as eagerly as she, but his face fell as he pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. Amid uproarious laughter, especially from Danny, Hawkes grumbled, "Thanks Stella. You're so funny."

"I thought it was appropriate for your little run-in with the law," said Stella, smirking. "But there is more to the gift, you know."

Hawkes pulled a heavy book from the box. "Oh, excellent! I've been eyeing this advanced medicine journal for months now! It's all about—"

Flack tuned him out and turned to Danny. "Do you understand half of what he's saying?"

Danny just shook his head. "No, but I wanted to say thanks again. For switching people with me."

Shrugging, Flack turned back to survey the rest of the room. "It wasn't a big deal. I switched with Lindsay after that, anyway."

Frowning, Danny looked at him closely. "But who did you—"

Stella cut him off. "Alright, everybody, let's move on." She pulled out the next box. "Ah, Mac, this one's for you."

It was a large box, much larger than the previous two had been. Mac looked down at it, a bemused expression on his face. "Whatever it is," he said, eyes twinkling, "I'm sure it's better than what Danny got me last year."

"Hey, that was expensive cologne!" said Danny defensively.

"It smelt like ass," said Flack, elbowing Danny. "Honestly, what were ya thinking?"

Mac just grinned and tore off the wrapping paper on his present. "Ok, here we go…moment of truth…" He lifted the lid off the box. "Oh, it's a suit jacket. And a very nice one, I might add."

Lindsay grinned happily. "I'm glad you liked it. I know you ripped your other black one at a crime scene a little while ago, so I figured you could use another one."

Smiling at her, Mac said, "I appreciate it. Thank you."

Stella pulled one of only two boxes left from under the tree. As she read the name off, Flack frowned. That didn't make sense; there were three people left who needed gifts. He tuned back in when he saw Stella hand the gift to Danny. Danny raised an eyebrow. "This better be good." When he opened it and saw what was inside, he let out a whoop. "Yes! Ticket for the Knicks game! First row seats!" Pausing, he asked confusedly, "Am I supposed to go by myself?"

Flack punched him in the arm. "Of course not, ya dolt. I have the other ticket, and I'm gonna go with you."

"Awesome," grinned Danny, pulling Flack into a brief, one-armed man hug. "You know I've been dying to get tickets to go see them this season. Thanks, man."

Grinning as well, Flack settled back into his seat, stretching his long legs out. "Wasn't a problem, man. It's gonna beat sitting on my couch with you trying to get you to stop hogging the popcorn."

"Hey, I do not hog the popcorn," protested Danny hotly.

Flack was about to respond when Stella cut them off, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. "Boys, boys, c'mon."

Danny and Flack grinned guilty, both looking thoroughly remorseful. "Sorry, Stella," they chimed in unison.

She rolled her eyes again and pulled the last gift from under the tree. "This one's for Lindsay," she said, handing it to her.

Lindsay looked closely at the intricate gold wrapping paper. "Wow, this is really pretty. I almost feel bad tearing it." She carefully peeled back the paper and pulled out a small, velvet-covered box. "This is pretty, too!" She opened it and inhaled sharply. "Oh my gosh, it's so pretty." She lifted out the delicate necklace, looking closely at the charm on it. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. "Ok, Danny, I know this one has to be from you." She showed Stella the necklace. "He gave me a necklace with a little Montana on it."

"Aw," said Stella, fingering the charm gently. "Jeez, Danny, is this real gold?"

"14 Karat, baby," grinned Danny. His face turned serious. "Do you like it?"

Lindsay grinned at him, her brown eyes sparkling. "Of course I like it! I love it!" She smiled shyly. "Thank you. Even if you still use that stupid nickname, thank you." She stood and walked over to Danny, giving him a quick and slightly awkward kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas."

Flack cleared his throat loudly. "While I hate to be the Grinch here, I'd just like to point out that, uh, I didn't get a gift."

Stella shared a look with Mac before smiling coyly. "Maybe we decided that you don't get a gift this year. I mean, you already got almost blown up this year. I think we can agree that you being alive is enough of a gift."

Staring at her, Flack opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "If I didn't know that that was a joke, I might be upset."

Mac shot Stella a look. "Don," he said, switching his gaze to Flack. "I was the one assigned to give you a gift this year, and I think I finally found something you might want." He reached into his pocket and hesitated. "Just for reference, everyone pitched in on this one." He pulled out a set of keys and set them in Flack's hand. "Merry Christmas."

Flack looked down at the keys, a kind of shocked confusion on his face. "What…what is this for, Mac?" he croaked.

Grinning, Mac said patiently, "Why don't you look outside?"

Rushing to the window as fast as he could, Flack peered outside. Opening his mouth in pure shock, he said softly and slowly, "You got me a Harley. A Harley Davidson Motorcycle. Holy Shit, you got me a Harley!"

"Merry Christmas," reiterated Mac, still smiling widely. He raised an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you going to go check it out?"

"Hell yeah I am!" exclaimed Flack. He gestured to Danny, who followed him outside. "Thank you!" called Flack over his shoulder as he left.

Stella came and stood next to Flack. "I still can't believe you got him a motorcycle."

"He deserves it," said Mac, smiling fondly. "He's had a rough year, and he's earned it. I can't think of anyone better."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Flack had come back from his quick trip around the block. He got off the motorcycle and shook Mac's hand heartily. "Thank you, Mac. Thank you."

"It was the least I could do," smiled Mac.

"There's gotta be some way I can repay you," said Flack distractedly, still beaming at his new motorcycle. "Listen, what are you doing for Christmas dinner tomorrow?"

Mac paused. "I…was planning on having dinner with a friend, but she…had other plans."

Flack grinned slightly. "She dumped ya, huh?"

"I didn't say that," said Mac calmly, raising an eyebrow. "Things between us just happened to not work out."

Rolling his eyes, Flack leaned in. "Look, I know about Peyton, alright? It doesn't matter where I heard it from, but I know what happened, alright?" He paused. "Listen, I don't want you to be alone on Christmas. Not after all you've done for me. So…I was thinking…maybe you would want to come with me to my parent's place in Yonkers. I've always wanted to introduce them to the man who saved my life."

Mac smiled slowly. "You know what? That actually sounds good. I'm glad that you invited me."

"Hey, that's what friends do, remember?" said Flack, half-grinning. "Now listen, my ma is a really good cook, and she makes a lot of food. She's gonna say you're too skinny, and I'm too skinny, and she's gonna make us try to eat even more."

"Somehow, I don't think that'll be a problem," said Mac, grinning. He looked over at where Danny and Lindsay were standing side-by-side, shoulders barely touching, and where Stella and Hawkes were chatting together. His team was complete, and more importantly, happy. "Merry Christmas," whispered Mac. "Merry Christmas."

**And have yourself  
A merry little Christmas  
Now"**


End file.
